


Night Watch

by Roriette



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Awkwardness, Basketball, Best Friends, College, Dorks in Love, Fluff and Humor, Graduation, M/M, Sexual Tension, Slice of Life, Stargazing, bertolt plays piano, dumb boys, guh i dunno what to tag, here have some cavities, lots of skinship, oblivious Eren is oblivious, possibly long distance, read this to be happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-08
Updated: 2014-04-08
Packaged: 2018-01-18 14:42:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1432264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roriette/pseuds/Roriette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bertholdt and Eren are childhood friends who’ve pretty much been inseparable. Their bromance is strong. Super strong. They even have a fanclub (Berthren Club) at school. Only thing is, they have to go their separate ways once college starts. So now’s the time to just let go and enjoy their teenage dream. Basically, dumb boys with massive sexual tension.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night Watch

**Author's Note:**

> can this be the first berthren plz.  
> if not, it's okay. *sniff*  
> I didn't realize how cute Bert/Eren is until I started writing. Like, they're made of such massive adorables I just can't. Please, more fanart. Please. and fanfics. PLEAZZZ
> 
> Rare pairs are love.  
> Berthren isn't crack ok. If you read the manga you would know! (-->hasn'treadmanga)

"So..."

_The stars are really bright._

"We...won't be able to hang out like this...for a while."

_Yeah. The stars are really bright._

Eren nods, listening to the quiet murmurs of the boy next to him as they lay on the dewy grass, under the blanket of the glimmering night sky.

Such a peaceful night, a night like every other in the countryside. A night that makes everything feel just about  _right._

A breeze sweeps past, and he breathes in the aroma of spring flowers and rain. Bertholdt shifts, and he feels his arm brush against his.

They stay in comfortable silence, faces lifted toward the dark blue sky and eyes taking in the winking stars, sweaty bodies close and skin unabashedly touching skin. Sometimes Bertholdt's long fingers meet his, and sometimes his sneakers touch Bertholdt's.

In the quiet serenity, no words are necessary.

Eren scoots in more, closer to Bertholdt, and leans to the left, resting his head on the tall boy's arm. Bertholdt doesn't move, lets him lay there and use him as a pillow, and Eren yawns, stretching his sore legs.

"We won," he exhales, a contented grin on his boyish face. "We beat Freedom, so now Titans are the defending national champions." He raises his fist, and Bertholdt pounds it lightly. Muscles sore, bruises forming all over his arms and legs, and throat aching from continuously barking orders during the basketball finals, Eren can't be happier.

All is right with the world.

"Thanks for being the best center our team can ask for," he says, looking up and over at his childhood friend.

Bertholdt's cheeks flush with a familiar red. He clears his throat. "N-not at all. It's all because you're our point guard, Eren. We couldn't have won without you."

"We won, because everyone did their best. Even Jean, the asshole, shot perfect three-pointers. Reiner was in top form, too. No one could get past him. Marco slipped a few times out of nervousness, but he pulled through in the end. And Connie...well, he was great at warming the bench and cheering us on. Did you see how Coach Erwin was smiling? That's got to be the first time," Eren laughs, recalling the exhilarating moment when the score tipped 43:40 in the Titans' favor and earned them the gold medal. The five of them immediately pulled into a life-threatening group hug (at one point, he swore he was going to asphyxiate in Reiner's unnecessarily powerful grip), and even their usually stone-faced coach was smiling, watching them hoot and holler in an idiotic frenzy. The cheers that erupted after their victory were deafening.

Even now, he can hear the ringing echo of the stadium screaming.

Bertholdt's intense body heat is warm and comfy as ever, and Eren leans into him, moving up until his head is propped on his shoulder.

Being close to Bertholdt is natural as air. They clicked as soon as two-year-old Eren found the timid boy building sandcastles at the park by himself.

" _Can I play with you_?" he had asked, with a lisp.

" _Um...um...okay_." The then three-year-old Bertholdt replied in the taciturn manner he grew accustomed to. Bertholdt was half a year older than him, but he had only a twelfth of Eren's confidence. Even now, he hardly leaves his comfort zone and doesn't do anything unless Eren or Reiner is with him. But that is Bertholdt, and he won't have him any other way.

They've been friends for a long time. He can't recall a day without Bertholdt next to him, whether it's playing stupid rage-inducing shooter games (he might have broken a game console over them), practicing for basketball, studying for exams (admittedly, studying with Armin proves better results, not that it stops him from goofing off with Bert after two minutes of opening the textbook), going skiing (that was a bad idea. A very, very bad idea. He nearly broke his nose during the first lesson, and seeing Bertholdt make skiing look so easy, even though he was also a beginner, did not make it any better), doing generally stupid things, such as racing each other and accidentally running into the girls' changing room after gym (Annie hooked him in the jaw and Mikasa roundhouse kicked Bertholdt to the ground), pulling all-nighters together for the sake of pulling nighters, watching scary movies (even though neither of them gets scared. It's more of a contest to see who can withhold from laughing at the blood splatter the longest), sneaking beer cans from Bert's parents and trying to get drunk (Bertholdt was against that idea for the longest time and only ended up going with it because everyone and their grandma knows just how annoyingly stubborn and adamant Eren can be), and...

What was he thinking about?

Oh, pretty much how Bertholdt makes up 99.99% of his memory lane. The .01% is when mommy Jaeger pushed him out of her womb, because that was the only time Bertholdt wasn't there. Or something like that.

So, yeah, they're inseparable. True homies. The horseface even dubbed them the "Bromance Titans" and hasn't stopped wolf whistling and catcalling every time they enter the gym together for practice. Even Connie and Reiner got into the ritual, and now there's even a "Berthren" fanclub in the school or some crazy shit like that. And he's pretty sure Jean "Horseface" Kirchstein is the co-creator.

"What an asshole," Eren mutters.

"Who...Jean?" Bertholdt asks softly, knowing exactly who he's referring to.

"Yeah. Him. You remember the stupid club he started? The one that keeps shouting our names at every game? They even have photoshopped pictures of us."

Bertholdt makes a small noise in acknowledgement, the vibration causing the back of Eren's head to tingle pleasantly.

"I've never heard anything more ridiculous. I mean, why is my name after yours? It could be like Erebert, or  _something_. It's so damn embarrassing. We're best friends and all, but we're not the  _only_  friends in the whole school, so why do  _we_  get called out? I don't get it. It's not fair," he groans, lips pursed into a disgruntled pout. "We hang out a lot, we don't mind getting close, we're used to being around each other for hours on end, we sometimes sleep in the same bed, but that's because your house doesn't have a guest room, and I don't really care, since it's warm and stuff, but I really don't think that's a big deal...you know?"

"Yeah..."

"Well, whatever, I'm just glad that we won. I don't think I can handle it if Freedom wins for the third consecutive year and have their point guard Levi smirk at me again. So, congrats to us!" Eren shouts, his voice echoing in the park, and Bertholdt laughs quietly, his slender fingers ruffling his chestnut hair. He likes Bertholdt's hands. They're long and lithe, piano hands. What he likes even more is when Bertholdt uses those hands to play the grand piano.

He likes the way his graceful fingers dance across the ivory keys, the way the assorted notes sound and echo, and the way Bertholdt looks, so effortless and reserved, so different from when he plays basketball, where he is all concentration and recklessness, where he's just as desperate as everyone else to win. He likes the different sides to Bertholdt, the defiant side that no one else sees (Jean thinks he's lying when he mentions how stubborn their team's center gets over keeping things in order, because Bertholdt just doesn't look like the type to care about trivial matters like organization), and the passive aggressive side that gives cold shoulders when he's angry (Eren's been victim to The Cold Shoulder one too many, but looking back on it now, he deserves every single one of them, because he is and always has been a brat, and Bert's too soft on him and will most likely even let him get away with murder one of these days).

There are layers to Bertholdt that people generally don't get to know, because he's the prime example of an introvert and will only interact with a selected few. To others, he always seems nervous, timid, intimidating, and vertically awkward. His height makes it difficult for the average person to approach him, and his withdrawn demeanor only adds unto the difficulty in befriending him. Reiner, Annie, and Eren are quite literally the only three individuals he talks to. None of it bothers Eren.

He doesn't know what clicked them in the first place, but it's way past the point of figuring it out. They've known each other for way too long. It's like questioning the meaning of life; they don't know, and they don't need to know.

All that matters is that they're alive, and they're alive, together. But sometimes, he wonders if that's really enough. He can feel it, from time to time, the barely-there glances from the side, from behind, or anytime Bertholdt thinks he's not looking, and those glances are levels above simple glances. It makes him feel like he's being scrutinized in different ways. It makes him...heated. Lately, he's been feeling that gaze on him longer and more frequently, especially when he turns his back or when he finishes a quick shower after practice.

He's confused, feels self-conscious, but at the same time, he doesn't mind.

Maybe he's the same way.

He finds himself looking at Bertholdt unintentionally, and sometimes, he just can't break away. Like when his tall, model-like figure strides down the hallway in the morning to his locker, towering over everyone like a god or some higher being, with the sun filtering in the window and shining his hair, says "Good morning, Eren," in his demure manner, and his breath gets caught in his throat. Or when Bertholdt plays a certain piece that he requested on the piano, and he plays it so beautifully, but his eyes don't watch his long, slender fingers, because they automatically stray to his face. And Bertholdt feels his wandering gaze, but he doesn't stop playing. He sweats a little, and a pale red seeps into his cheeks, but he doesn't stop until he finishes the song.

Almost as if inviting him to watch.

Maybe they're the same.

Even though they've seen each other 365 days for each and every one of the fifteen years they've been friends, lately it feels as though they're seeing each other for the first time. The smallest thing Bertholdt does catches his eyes, as if on cue, like a magnet, and if he turns away, he'll only get pulled in even more. And he's embarrassed, because Armin notices right away, and the blonde smiles like he knows something, even though  _he's_  still trying to figure out what something is.

Mikasa keeps telling him that he's way too oblivious for his own good, but since it's coming from  _Mikasa_ , he opts to ignore all of her comments. Being his overprotective stepsister and he having a bit of an inferiority complex towards her and all, everything she says just comes in one ear and leaves the other. But maybe she's right. Maybe he  _isn't_  the sharpest in the toolbox. Maybe he  _should_  be more perceptive. Or maybe he's just stupid, but this whole thing between him and Bertholdt is really getting to him. And he doesn't want this thing to get to him, because this is their last year together. After graduation, they'll be going their separate ways.

Bertholdt got a full ride to Sina, a topnotch university in the east, for the center guard position, while he himself managed to land a hefty deal from Wall Maria, a prominent university in the west, as an upcoming point guard. The universities are rival institutions that have been head to head in athletics, and their locations can't be on more polar ends. Once high school ends, they won't be able meet up until the basketball leagues start, or until they get to their winter breaks. It'll be a long time, and it hurts just thinking about it.

He thinks about the future, and he thinks about it a whole lot. He just never stopped to think about heading into the future without Bertholdt next to him, holding him back from doing something stupid, or giving up and resigning himself to his stupidity. Time flies so fast, and he always thought that they'd be together in college, too. But life becomes an enmity, and it's an adversary that can't be fought.

A full ride to Sina is perfect for Bertholdt. It's beyond perfect. It's in a league of its own, just like Wall Maria. For Bertholdt's below average income household, it's a dream come true. His parents have been struggling to pay for his basketball and piano lessons, and now all of their problems are solved. They can't be prouder, happier, and more ecstatic for their son's accomplishments. Eren sucks it up and joins them, congratulating Bertholdt and holding a small party for the both of them.

Eren's parents are equally proud of him. His household is of the upper-middle class, since his father is a doctor and his mother occasionally steps in as the weather forecast reserve, and seeing them be so happy for him makes him soar with pride.

Only when the news died down and everyone's all congratulated-out and tired from celebrating does reality start to sink in for Eren. Reality hits, and reality hits hard.

"It's going to be a while, huh," he sighs. Just the acknowledgement alone has his stomach in knots and chest twinge in pain.

Bertholdt shifts, and Eren sits up with the realization that he had been putting his weight on his friend's shoulder for the past half hour. His shoulder must be cramped.

"Shit, sorry," he apologizes, panic settling in his wide green eyes. "You should've told me that you were getting cramped, Bert!"

The taller male rubs his shoulder and smiles sheepishly. "I'm okay, don't worry about it."

"It's not, though!" Eren retorts with exasperation. "You know you don't always have to do things that you don't want to do, even if I want it. You can say 'no,' too. If you don't tell me, then I'm going to be the stupid one and abuse you."

"Eren," Bertholdt responds, a resolute tone in his low voice, "there's no way you can abuse me. I'm kind of bigger than you in every way."

The statement stops Eren dead. He slowly locks eyes with Bertholdt.

_What._

_What._

_What._

_What!?_

And doing his utmost  _not_  to imagine - goddamit, brain, don't picture it, oh my god, it can't be  _that_  big, right?! - Eren clears his throat awkwardly.

Seconds pass like hours, until Bertholdt finally registers the misguided innuendo in his speech.

"T-that's not what I mean!" he splutters, face bright and red.

"You don't have to put it like that," Eren mutters, mock hurt in his tone, and Bertholdt looks like he's about to hyperventilate. "It's not like you've seen mine. I haven't even seen yours. Wait, did you see mine?"

Bertholdt remains silent.

"When?!" Eren exclaims, jumping up in alarm.

The center guard opens his mouth to say something, but he stops when Eren springs up on his feet. His eyes wander painfully conspicuously to the navy gym shorts Eren is wearing, gaze on the area between his lean thighs. Bertholdt's mouth slowly closes, and his eyes don't stray a millimeter.

Eren follows his friend's gaze, takes in what exactly's got Bertholdt's attention, and he plops right down, ass harshly thumping on the wet grass.

An awkward silence proceeds.

Awkwardly.

**Author's Note:**

> I have no honest idea of where I'm going with this. It was supposed to be a oneshot, and then I couldn't stop writing. Why, dammit, why.  
> If I'm not lazy, I continue. But that's hardly ever the case, so here, take this oneshot and some cavities.  
> If this didn't give cavities, I don't know what to say.  
> Hit the kudos if liked! Spread the berthren rabu rabu!


End file.
